Silver and Thorne
by Rameaus Sigilite
Summary: A noble scion is at his wits end, he's not sure who he is. What are these obscure memories? These nightmares? Will his answers be at Death's doorstep or right under his nose? Hopefully the Fates will be kind this day. A rewrite of "And It's On With The Show". This isn't consistent to Warhammer Lore, some things might be based on various. Review, please and thank you!
1. Prologue

**PROLOGUE**

To whom it may concern,

It is with great sorrow that I write to inform you of the impromptu death of a certain respected Colonel-Commissar from your most noble house, milord died at the climax of a military operation. It is with great regret I inform you that milord's body is unaccounted for and consequently unavailable for a burial, befitting of his stature, resulting in various speculations as to his cause of death, though the witnesses of his glorious demise surmised that no man could survive from the resulting backlash of his final act.

As a commissar, milord's personal details are classified to the standard administration, though he has spoken of his family in the past during his field duty as well as mentioned his surname therefore we have tracked you through it. We of the general staff have judged it fit to inform you with all due haste.

It has been requested in his will for all his belongings, inheritance and pension be retained to an individual not of your house. For confirmation: Said will is enclosed along with this letter. We request to be informed whether to follow through with the request or otherwise.

Contained in the parcel that arrived with this missive are his personal effects - specifically his personal diaries, and numerous field and research journals – his recognition of service as well as his multiple awards and medals. For the recompense of milord's life, please address the local planetary army administration, a statue has been commissioned to be built on the site of his death to commemorate his deed.

-Signed, Lord Castellan Vahn Urraca


	2. Chapter 1

Well then… Where to start? We could start at The End; "And they lived happily ever after.", or "As he walked off into the sunset." Though endings are usually unpredictable and never what you may expect. I should get to writing, not like this is going to finish itself.

About the "Day" I decided to make this? I was talking to my sisters, telling them that I should maybe start a journal – or was it a book? I can't seem to remember, considering I have near-goldfish memory, one of them told me then: "I started a little blog, I keep it to myself, I put everything on it but no one's ever going to see it while I'm alive, I write down my thoughts, feelings, everything into one hell of a dump. Hopefully it's something I can leave behind and be remembered by."

Truly one thing is for sure; I'm always going to remember both, and I'm thankful for them being mine. Truth be told, we're not really siblings, we're "half"-related for that matter, just likely souls that happened to bond.

Growing up in a crowded city, I got kidnapped a few times actually if it weren't for me slashing their necks and capping their knees. I was pretty quiet and shy when I was young; my only friends were my neighbors and cousins, and the occasional acquaintance from school or the children of my father's political allies. I was the "odd" kid from down the lane that no one talked to. I moved and changed schools multiple times throughout my childhood, never having a permanent home. I used to be doted on by family back then, but things change, everyone got "sadder" – for a lack of a better word. The death of various family members and a few rough patches and bumps in the road didn't do well for us; not especially my parents' marriage. I usually wished that I had a different name, a different identity, a different life. Not like those wishes would be granted though, but things improved as the years passed especially during my adolescence.

The first thing you need to know is that my family is very well endowed; with my grandfather as the planetary justiciar, while my grandmother was a galaxy-wide famous opera singer. Together they had my father: a very well-known "doctor" who owns over half the planet's hospitals and war factories, who then went to marry my mother who was an heiress to the sector's second largest trade conglomerate.

You may have noticed two things in that paragraph: " _quote_ doctor _quote_ " and "my mother was". To explain, my father really isn't a doctor; well not in the sense of having a medical degree or mending someone's bones, though he does own legitimate hospitals, I meant to say someone who incises a lesion from a "body" – and by body I mean the Empire - You could say that he's a privateer, one that controls an army. My mother is on the other side of the spectrum, a temperate noble woman, every bit the princess that she was raised to be, albino aristocratic features with long silver hair and piercing red eyes. What you wouldn't expect is that she has a hobby, one for cruelty, not to say that she was cruel to her family much less me and my sisters, please, her cruelty was aimed towards anyone who opposed us.

I can tell what you're thinking: a perfect mafia-esque family. It wasn't always like this; it was just the revolution, the war and the hardships that came with them. Mother died when she contracted a heart attack caused by the stress and shock from the death of my uncle and brother, then me and my sisters were sent to a university city on the far side of the planet, only for me to finish my course early, leaving my sisters in school, nevertheless I do visit the two occasionally.

"And it's on with the show" again.

It was a suppressed and dreary day; the surface was as toxic as ever, there was the usual gas fume in the air, gasmasks all around. It was a day at the opera no less; most of the Empire's nobles, moguls and magnates were attending at the largest theatre ever built – over half the size of an Imperial battleship, those things are unrealistically gigantic – to celebrate yet another victory over the various renegade cells that oppose the Dessadin Empire.

There I was sitting in front of my family, my grandfather and my father behind me, my step-mother on the seat right next to him. Thank the gods I was on an aisle seat, it's already been over an hour since the show started, I couldn't stand it. My grandmother's performance was finally over and I was allowed to leave the hall. I stepped onto the aisle to get up when I felt a pressure on my foot.

I heard a quiet "Eep" then a body fell on the floor with a muffled thud

 _Shit,_ looking down I saw the very person I was hoping to avoid.

"Kerrolyn, let's get you out of here," helping her up.

"But I just got back in," She glared.

"Before you embarrass yourself even further," I scolded, stopping her from struggling.

"You tripped me," She accused.

"Accidentally," I snorted.

We finally got out of the theatre hall and into the entrance hall. I let her go and looked her down to see if she was injured, finally noticing her scarlet red ball dress, overly exhibiting her not-so-large bust, matching her dark red shoulder-length hair that braided into a bun. Her usually kind lightly-freckled face was marred with an undignified scowl.

"Checking me out?" She accused again, crossing her arms and tapping a finger testily.

"Evaluating your propriety," I replied evenly.

"Why so stiff?"

"I know not what you mean milady, I advise that you amend your person"

I started walking away when she grabbed my arm and pulled me into an embrace.

"Don't do this"

"Again, I must say, I do not know of which you are referring to. Now please unhand me"

"I'm free on the morrow; your presence would dearly satisfy me"

Pulling myself out of her grip and straightening up, I left her alone and walked into a nearby restroom. I walked up to the mirror, seeing my near albino face slightly tainted by scars. I lithely grazed a cut, one from an experience I could only hope to forget, passing through my left eye then branching into two: down my lip and across my cheek.

Suddenly something flashes into my mind's eye: a tangle of limbs, a deep seeded rage, then a flash of fierce silver eyes and a bent grenade pin. I clenched my hand, looking down at the prominent mechanical augmentation, inspecting the inlaid wiring and the metal scale plates that ran along the limb.

It was a memory, unbelievable and unforgettable.

An ordeal.

A nightmare.


	3. Chapter 2

**CHAPTER 2**

Luckily the day after was parade duty, colonel-commissar at your service, so I was excused from my familial duties and visiting Kerrolyn, to lead the city's mechanized regiments. It was a day that didn't turn out as expected, just like every other drama. Just sitting inside my APC's command seat, as the procession past the streets; waving at the occasional bystander, when it lurched to a halt.

"Why did we stop?" I yelled over the armored-vehicle's roaring engine, "We're barely close to the rendezvous."

"Someone ran out into the infantry lines" said my adjutant.

I scanned over the heads of my men expecting to see another gasmask, when instead I saw a noble girl, dressed in white and all, crossing the street without one as if the planet surface wasn't a nuclear winter wonderland.

"Turn into a side street, Get the lines moving, we'll catch up later!" I ordered the driver, "Get her in here! She can't breathe!"

Although when she was about to be brought in, I could see that she wasn't having trouble breathing at all; neither was she a girl or wearing white as I first thought. Here was a woman, likely my age, practically naked as the day she was born, her privates only covered by a thin robe similar to one a medical patient would wear only longer.

"Oberstleutnant?" She asked, stepping up to me.

"There she is!" I recognized the language, but before I could speak a group of men ran up the street, hospital personnel by the looks of the distinct all-white uniform. I clenched a gloved fist in frustration at being interrupted.

"Is she one of your patients?" I half-yelled half-asked, knowing the obvious answer.

"Yes lord commissar," one answered as they all saluted.

"Then prey tell why is she out here? Improperly clothed and without a mask, breathing no less! And away from your watch?" Threateningly, I moved my arms to my hips, shifting my overcoat to the aside, revealing my handgun.

"Sh-she a-umm merely ss-slipped through us mim-milord," the same one who spoke earlier stuttered out.

"How did this conspicuous little one pass undetected?" I challenged, "I doubt you could miss her walking by."

"You misunderstood milord," another said, quite defiantly.

"Do tell what I happen to misunderstand," challengingly, I drew my handgun at the offender.

"They meant to say milord that she ahh.. Literally went through us," said the third man, not quite believing himself either. With an incredulous look, I shook my head unbelievingly; I turned around to look at our object of issue, only to see her walk through the APC's rear doors as if they weren't there at all. _What manner of sorcery is this…?_

"I see what you mean."

Following behind her and opening the doors, I see her sitting there primly drinking my canteen of alcohol. While watching her drink my beverage, I scrutinized her: An albino; she had the face of an aristocrat with slightly uneven thin pink lips, knee-length straight silver hair with a blue-ish hue, and she was shorter – about my eye's height- with a willowy but athletic form. Although what caught me was her eyes; mismatched and partially covered as they were - the right being red, the left silver - they seemed to emanate a faint, dark glow. She reminded me of a nymph or a fairy, almost unreal yet right before my eyes; her imperfections making her seem human yet divine.

Another vision flashed into my mind: The same silver hair, only shorter and on a smaller body. Then the same pair of silver eyes as before, piercing into my heart. Then it faded. I shook my head, vexed at yet another incomprehensible memory.

At the edge of my sight, she stood up with complete grace and efficiency. Locking eyes together, she had a smirk in hers as they sparkled bemusedly. She stepped over again and closed my apparently gaping mouth. The evident noble woman moved through the four medics, jogging towards the direction of where she first came from. The four stooges scrambled after her, albeit unconcerned. _Probably back to whichever hospital…_

"Colonel."

"Corporal?" I turned to look at my operator.

"The Lord Castellan is awaiting our arrival; your grandfather has begun giving his speech."

"Let's not keep him waiting then," stepping into the vehicle, followed by my adjutant.

"Vor!" and once more we proceeded down the parade avenue.

Sitting on the command seat, staring through the view-port, pondering the girl's appearance: _Who is she? Did she incite that memory to appear? How could she just pass through things yet not me?_ I remembered the feel of her silk-like alabaster skin, not helping to rub my chin where she touched me.

"Sir, we're close."

"Pop the hatch!" I stoop up, pushing aside thoughts of the mysterious girl.


	4. Chapter 3

"…I thank you, my dear countrymen, for keeping resolute and faithful to our cause, I dare say that we shall prevail. May the Fates preserve us." With the speech concluded, the forum assembly dispersed into their various factions.

"Lord Justiciar." I saluted. "That was a very enticing speech."

''Don't call me that, I'm your grandfather, not a stranger." he said with and embrace, "It's nice seeing you here, I've got a surprise for you." gesturing towards a pair of side doors, _smash_ , they suddenly busted open. Expecting an attack, I reached for my gun only to be stopped by a bordeaux colored missile followed by periwinkle rocket.

"What the!?" I wasn't expecting to be introduced to the carpeted floor.

"Brother!" Yelled two voices, their hugs getting tighter; almost bone-crushing – thank god I have some resilience.

"It's you two midgets," Finally seeing the pair of culprits, "What're you doing here?"

"To see you!" replied the missile.

"Alyssee?"

"NO, I'm Cylia"

"But Cylia's right eye is green"

"He remembers!" They cooed in unison, their hugs tightening even more.

"Alright, I can't breathe."

"Crap, sorry!"

"I see you haven't changed much when it comes to me."

"How about physically?"

"Umm…" With that I looked them over. Cylia, ever the tougher of the two, preferred her dark colors while Alyssee, the more temperate one, had her own side of the spectrum. Their dresses were in the same fashion, opposites, yet they complement their wearers and each other. "You both look very elegant."

"Why thank you good sir." They echoed while curtsying.

"It is very good to see you two, it has been awhile." I gave them a wide smile, honestly happy. "Though, I must ask, have you spoken to father?"

"Dear old father is not here as you can see." Cylia frowned, her aggravation obvious. "He is most likely at home, selling us off to our next so-called betroths."

"…I see"

"Honestly, he never learns, Alyssee and I are quite content with each other." They closed in for the kill, lecherous grins sprouting forth. In unison: "And with you too, dear brother."

I looked towards Grandfather for help only to receive a smirk, obviously amused at our byplay. Scanning the rest of the banquet hall, revealed a sea of eyes, our performance attracting the attention of over half of the attendees; some even giggling at us. That all ended when the hall's main doors opened with a blaring _creak_ , summoning everyone's attention, my sisters' included. From the threshold our father sprang forth, accompanied by the Lord Castellan, his adjutants and bodyguards, and a woman. _Fate seems to think that I don't have enough of them in my life._

The party walked brusquely towards us. _Something happened…_

"The Lord Castellan wishes to talk to you." Declared father, my sisters motioned forth as well but were hindered by the woman, "Only your brother."

"Pardon me for a moment," I walked back to the twins, "I will return, do not look so forlorn." I left the pair with a kiss on their foreheads and warm smiles all around. _If only they knew what happened after._


End file.
